


lifespan of love

by ewagan



Category: Persona 5
Genre: Developing Relationship, M/M, Post-Canon, Relationship Study
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-01
Updated: 2020-07-01
Packaged: 2021-03-04 03:02:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,375
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24916537
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ewagan/pseuds/ewagan
Summary: despite everything, or perhaps because of it, he is here. he has chosen to be here, right now with yusuke, stacking plastic containers and unpacking boxes.if it is a question of faith, then this is something yusuke can believe in.
Relationships: Kitagawa Yusuke/Kurusu Akira, Kitagawa Yusuke/Persona 5 Protagonist
Comments: 3
Kudos: 33





	lifespan of love

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Found a Light zine.
> 
> as ever, thank you to best meg for the handholding while i was, perishing. <3
> 
> recommended listening for this fic: [taylor swift - cornelia street (acoustic)](https://youtu.be/3xGvCApIEQY)
> 
> title taken from galileo galilei’s song of the same title. alternately in japanese, 恋の寿命 (koi no jumyou)

_For me, imagination and desire are very close.  
― Jeanette Winterson_

* * *

the sun must be bleeding, for it to stain the city and the sky so. yusuke watches it sink and disappear, until the red gives way to the neon and gold of city lights. he starts walking home, his path lit by the glow of vending machines and shopfronts, the soft conversations of people passing by him.

yusuke has lived in tokyo all his life, but he has never seen it like this, through this lens. ren blends into the city better than he does, but everywhere yusuke goes these days he sees ren. tokyo loves him, has made him one of her own in a way yusuke cannot help but wonder at.

even in his absence, he is still here.

tomorrow will be the last day of the year and yusuke thinks it will be another day he has to pass alone. it’s funny how quickly time has passed, how much has changed and yet nothing has at all. he’s learned how it feels to have friends to rely on, to fill his days with a tentative kind of laughter, to hold precious things in his hands and know he is allowed to have them. 

yusuke wants to go to the planetarium again, watch the stars and trace out their patterns. he wants to go to meiji shrine, announce himself to the gods and beg for their grace or mercy. he wants to go to all the places he has gone to before with ren, to see it again with new eyes. perhaps he is just making new memories and painting over the past with a more palatable future, but there is something different about the way it feels when ren shows him all these familiar places.

stairs, train platform, the rush of people pressing to go home. yusuke half expects to see ren’s messy hair in the corner of his eye, to have him smile and offer to get dinner together. he knows better, but his heart lurches every time he as much catches sight of a messy head of hair.

he boards the train and lets it rattle its way through the city, taking him back to his apartment. sometimes it feels so strange that he used to come down here to delve into people's subconscious, that the passing trains had been full of desires and hopes, beautiful and ugly. but he supposed that's how the world is, beautiful and ugly in part, existing in a way that brings everything into balance.

the train stops and he gets off, through the ticket barriers and up the stairs, emerging from the tunnel. then left and towards his apartment. silence and darkness greet him when he opens the door, but yusuke is used to coming back to an empty house.

“i'm home,” he says, just to see how the words sound. they linger in the air, a call with no response. something doesn’t feel quite right about it, but perhaps it doesn’t really matter, when he has somewhere to call home after a fashion. 

he is still here, after all.

* * *

the containers wobble precariously as ren stacks another one on top. he's perched on the counter to reach that high, and yusuke wonders where is it he even acquired this many plastic containers, and when the entire thing will come collapsing down on him.

“ren,” he says, and ren merely grins at him. “ren,” he says again, more exasperated and just a touch helpless, and ren laughs.

“it'll be fine, yusuke.” ren's grin softens, and he hops down to catch yusuke's hands in his own. “stop worrying,” he says softly.

and yusuke's breath hitches at that, that ren knows what he was thinking, feeling, even before he was really aware himself.

“we're okay now,” ren murmurs, even as yusuke leans against him, dropping his head to rest on ren's shoulder.

they're okay now. here, in the half unpacked kitchen of their new apartment, in the middle of this fragile thing yusuke has been too afraid to grab hold of, but too greedy to let go of either. here, in the middle of a new beginning and believing, the way ren's hands curve around his neck with a heartbreaking tenderness.

they’re okay, just like they were okay then. ren’s hands around his in the quiet hum of leblanc. ren’s fingers around his wrist in the middle of crossing shibuya. ren’s hand in his when he went back to that shack he once called home. ren is there, steady and constant when yusuke needs him.

he is here now, at the start of this something new they will learn together. despite everything, or perhaps because of it, he is here. he has chosen to be here, right now with yusuke, stacking plastic containers and unpacking boxes.

if it is a question of faith, then this is something yusuke can believe in.

* * *

their friends are sprawled around this their living rooms. _theirs_ , yusuke thinks. futaba is curled up next to ren on the floor and making commentary while ryuji and ann duke it out on tekken, makoto and haru are chatting softly while morgana is in haru’s lap, protesting at the petting despite the loud purring. ren looks up and smiles at him, and yusuke smiles back. the kettle announces it’s done boiling water with a sharp click and yusuke busies himself making the tea, carefully stacking the teapot and cups on the tray and bringing it to the tiny coffee table. haru smiles at him gratefully when he passes her a cup, while ryuji and ann are too caught up in whooping each other to pay much attention. 

it's so comfortable, in the strange sort of way that yusuke hasn't experienced in a long time. if he had to name it, he would call it home, one that is filled with all the things and the people he loves instead of bits of his heart scattered everywhere. _sayuri_ hangs on one of the walls, watching over them with tenderness even as ryuji and ann get even louder, until makoto is chiding them for being too loud.

they have come so far to make it here, but yusuke is constantly marvelling at how constant some things are and have been. they are all still here, even after all these years. still holding together in the ways that matter, despite how busy they have become with all the growing up and apart. but most of all, ren, the heart of them that holds them all together. he's still here, and yusuke still sometimes finds himself caught off-guard by his presence, by the choices that have led them both here, but mostly that _he_ was ren’s choice.

as if sensing yusuke’s train of thought, ren looks over at him. _come here,_ he mouths, patting the space beside him. yusuke smiles and shakes his head, but he is grateful that ren knows him so well. he'd rather just watch them tonight, this makeshift family of theirs they cobbled despite everything, take in all the tiny miracles that have held them together.

how fortunate he is; to be here, to be a part of it.

at the end of the night, futaba is curled on the couch with morgana, the spare blanket wrapped around them like they intend to stay over. makoto and haru have already excused themselves, while ann and ryuji are collecting their things and saying good night.

“i'm glad you two have each other,” ann tells him when she kisses his cheek, a habit she picked up after a six-month modelling stint in europe. "”i'll text you about lunch, and don't say you're too busy, okay?”

then she's gone, her perfume lingering faintly as she closes the door behind her. he can hear ann and ryuji start bickering again, overlaid with the sound of ren cleaning up in the kitchen.

“what did ann want?” he asks, when yusuke goes to help him.

“lunch date,” he says. ren smiles at him, passing him a dish towel and yusuke gets to work, drying and putting away the dishes. it's just the sound of running water and clinking of ceramic, ren's hands damp as they brush against his, but something in yusuke is yearning, twisting and hoping that this never ends.

* * *

it’s quiet up here, and yusuke finds it comforting. in the corner, there’s a chair he’d dragged up for the days he wants to watch the city pass by while his hands trace idle shapes, searching for the shape of his new painting.

there’s some semblance of a garden up here, pots scattered around from other tenants' attempts to grow something. it has nothing compared to the garden that haru cultivates, but yusuke can’t help but regard this space fondly nonetheless.

“how long have you been up here?” ren’s voice is a surprise, and yusuke turns to greet him with a smile. he has a spare jacket draped over his arm, like he’d known yusuke forgot to put on a jacket before he’d come up.

“not that long,” yusuke says. but his hands are cold and he accepts the jacket gratefully. it’s not one of his, but he tugs it on regardless. “thank you.”

ren just smiles. “what's on your mind?” he asks.

“what do you mean?”

“you always come up here to think.” ren says, like it's a fact. "if you figure it out, you come back down and start painting or sketching. and if you don't, you can stay up here for hours."

he hadn't realised ren had been paying such close attention, and his lips turn in a somewhat rueful smile. “it helps me clear my head,” he says.

“i know.” ren’s smile is a slight thing, quietly affectionate. yusuke always thinks that ren’s smile is like a piece of glass held up to the light, reflecting and refracting depending on which angle it was turned at, never quite the same each time. it changes too, with the person he’s speaking to. “tell me what you're thinking about?”

it gives him pause, as he tries to sort through what it is he wants to say, and how to say it. it sits inside him, swirling uncertainties he’s not sure how to voice. but ren has always been a safe place for him, someone who understands even when yusuke doesn't quite understand himself.

“i'm not really sure,” he says in the end. “maybe i'm just afraid that this won't last.” yusuke's grasping, trying to put this feeling into words in a way that doesn't come out terrible.

“i'm unsure of this, ren. of us and of the future and of myself.”

he could try and explain it further, but there are some things he can't quite put a name to. yusuke's not very good at believing or having faith in that things will last somehow, even more so when they feel so terribly fragile, the way this does. it doesn't matter that they've managed so long; he's still waiting for the shoe to drop, for someone to say _oh, this wasn't meant for you._

yusuke knows he is terrible at wanting things, but he's even worse at taking them when they are offered to him.

“i'm here, yusuke.” ren's hands are in front of him again, palms upturned and waiting, like they always are. they are so warm in contrast to yusuke's, and they curl around his hands with care. yusuke stares at their joined hands, unable to look at ren just yet. there's a calm devastation that comes with the realisation he doesn't know what he would do if ren ever stops offering out his hands to yusuke like this, if he ever lets go.

“yusuke.” the way ren says his name is so careful and tender, and yusuke cannot help but look up. he doesn't know what to make of the way ren looks at him, the way ren always looks at him at times like these. it makes him want to turn away, but he nevers knows why. only that he cannot face it.

“i'm scared too,” ren says softly. “but this is worth being scared about, because you are so terribly important, yusuke. you are worth it. i'm so terrified of the future and what it will bring, but you make me brave enough to face it, to stand here with you.”

and maybe that's what he's forgotten—that he's not the only one here who might want something. that ren might be afraid also, but he wants this enough to be here, like yusuke is still here. they have both chosen to be here.

yusuke's hands tighten around ren's almost instinctively, dropping his gaze. but he leans in and takes a breath, shuddering and gasping.

he is here, he is breathing, and this is worth it.

* * *

crossroads is not a place that yusuke would normally come on his own, necessarily. but ren is the one to bring yusuke there, to introduce him to lala, who takes a liking to him for reasons he cannot fathom, who in turn fascinates him as someone who is so certain of herself. lala escargot knows who she is and what she wants from life, and it shows in the way she talks and deals with people, in the way she lets yusuke sit at the bar to observe people without asking him too many questions. he always thinks she would make a fascinating subject to paint.

“you never change,” he tells her one of the days he's sitting at the bar, waiting for ren. he's old enough now that she will make him an actual drink now if he asks, but he still likes it best when she makes tea, with her own blend of tea leaves.

“ah, sweet talker.” lala laughs, setting the tea in front of him. but he thinks it's comforting, in some ways when so many things have and are changing around yusuke, while he remains something of a fixed point. haru is finishing up university and has opened up her coffee shop, flying around the world to learn how to roast coffee. futaba is braver now too, managing school and classes and other friends on her own, even if she does take days off to hole up in her room on her own. ann's career has taken off; yusuke's not even sure when she's in tokyo these days, or if she's overseas on another modelling job. ryuji’s gone back to school, saying he wants to become a teacher, and makoto is hard at work making her own dreams come true.

yusuke—

yusuke is still yusuke. he is still just an artist, and maybe money’s less tight than it used to be, he’s still careful about spending, still chasing down his next painting. he thinks he’s more settled and more at peace with himself that he had been during high school, but surprisingly little has changed. they’d always said he was going to do great things, but yusuke has only ever wanted a few things in his life. he wants to paint, to be acknowledged, to feel like his work is reaching out beyond him. he wants enough to be able to keep creating, to get by and not feel like everything is stretched too thin. it’s not fame or money he really wants, only too aware how corrupting their influences can be.

ren interrupts his train of thought by coming out from the back, a murmured conversation with lala that yusuke doesn't quite catch. he thinks it more interesting to watch the way they talk, how loose and comfortable ren is next to lala, the way her half-smile says she is fond of him. then ren is ducking out from behind the bar, his head tilted to the side in the universal gesture of _let's go_.

“i'll walk you back,” he says, his hand already reaching for yusuke's, and it's easy to just curl his fingers around ren's, follow him out of the reddish tint of crossroads and into the neon streets of shinjuku.

shinjuku is always bright at night, always buzzing with an air of _something_ happening. lala always says it's possible to find anything you want here, and the feeling is always stronger at night somehow. something about the bright lights reflecting on his skin, the cadence of people talking and laughing, the way the very air seems to hum with desire and possibility, how everything seems to be at his fingertips, if he could want it enough to grasp it.

and well, if yusuke could want anything, it would be this—the neon lights of shinjuku behind him, the streetlights to the station dim overhead, ren's hand around his, leading him forward, leading him home.

* * *

“i don’t know what time i’ll get in,” yusuke says. he's still waiting for the train, which has been delayed due to snow on the tracks. there are too many people crowded into the waiting room, but it's also too cold to stand outside.

“that’s alright, i’ll wait.” yusuke wants to protest this, but ren has a strangely stubborn note in his voice. it makes yusuke pause, just for a moment. “i'll wait for you,” ren repeats, and yusuke can feel something like longing twist in his belly.

“okay,” he says, exhaling slowly. “i'll see you later then,”

the clock keeps ticking, the train doesn't come. the station master tells them the train might be delayed even further, and suggests that they get a hotel for the night, apologising for all the inconvenience. some people leave; yusuke stays.

when the train finally does arrive, yusuke is one of the few people who boards it, and it's the last train for the night. 

it goes slowly and the snow outside comes down like a whisper, layer by layer. he wonders if it's snowing as hard in tokyo, if ren is curled up under the kotatsu, if morgana is there and demanding fatty tuna. he wonders what ren had for dinner, or if he'd waited like he said he would, though yusuke hopes he's eaten. there's a rhythm to the way the train sways, and it's easy to get lost in all this wondering, especially when the train is so empty.

there's a train ride with ren he remembers especially well, despite all the times they'd taken the train home together. it was one of those days in summer, and ren had been sitting across him while the late evening sun lit him up. there wasn't anything particularly memorable about it, only the way the sun had reflected off his glasses, the half smile he had offered yusuke as the train took them wherever they were going that day, the way yusuke had looked at him and felt something inside him settle.

time flies so fast, and here they are still.

it’s late when the train pulls into the station, and dark in the way it can only get in winter. the way home is lit by streetlights, casting shadows that yusuke has long ceased to fear. he knows the way home with a kind of surety he hadn't possessed all those years ago.

a left, then a right. up the stairs to the top of the building, the second door, where his name and ren's are written. there's light spilling out from the crack under the door while he digs in his pocket for the keys. the door swings open to reveal the genkan, still lit, as if it were waiting for him to come home.

“welcome back,” ren calls, poking his head out of the kitchen. there’s some clattering and then he’s out in the entryway before yusuke can finish toeing off his shoes, a small smile in his face as he reaches to take yusuke’s coat and scarf.

yusuke stops him halfway, catching ren's hands in his own and squeezing them. ren's smile is fond, but he squeezes back, reassuring despite the long day and long journey. some part of yusuke twists with a kind of yearning he cannot stop, quietly tender and fragile even as he leans into ren and just _breathes_.

“i’m home,” yusuke says, feeling the words echo and settle in his chest, like they belong there somehow.

he's home.

**Author's Note:**

> Kudos and comments appreciated.


End file.
